


The End

by Sasha_Love_XOXO



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-11-29 15:48:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11444049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sasha_Love_XOXO/pseuds/Sasha_Love_XOXO
Summary: It's been a year. They're not getting better, but they're trying.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoy this and thank you for checking this story out! Love me some Clony *heart eyes*

Well over a year, and Clay’s not much better.

He tries. He really does. He just can't make the pain go away. And he knows he's not the only one, especially after Alex killed himself last year. Everyone's having trouble moving forward, though they’re making more of an effort than he is.

And then there's Tony.

It's not that Tony isn't around anymore. He's around a lot. He still checks in on Clay, asking him how he's doing and if he needs anything. He's the kind of guy who's hard to avoid--or he would be if Clay had any interest in avoiding him like he had last year when he received the tapes. But it's not like that anymore. Clay wishes it had never been like that in the first place.

What's weird is that Tony never stays for long. He’ll come by and visit Clay but leave ten minutes later. Just wants to make sure everything's okay, that Clay isn't going to break down again and throw himself off a cliff. They still talk in school, but not for long. He still drives Clay home, but doesn't say much. At first, Clay thinks it's because of him. Brad had dumped Tony because of all the time he and Clay spent together, and the taller boy had assumed that Tony was just putting some kind of distance between them.

But now he knows it's something else entirely.

It sucks. Yeah, Tony’s around. But he's not the same Tony that Clay used to know. This man doesn't talk as much, doesn't say more than two sentences sometimes. He does most of his talking with his fists and tools he uses to fix cars. It's how he lets out his anger without taking it out on anyone else. It's his way of screaming. Clay knows this. He knows him.

Better than anyone, probably.

 

* * *

 

He stills wakes up screaming.

In those nightmares, it's not just Hannah who's blood is spilling from her wrists and over the side of the bathtub. It's Alex too. It's Alex, and he's frightened and alone and trembling, crying, but he still takes the blade and slices open his skin. Clay can see it so clearly that he almost thinks it's real. He sees the flesh ripping and watches as the blood flows out, doesn't stop until Alex’s eyes eventually flutter close and he stops breathing. Then it's Jessica, Jessica is next, and she tries to be strong. Tries to be. But it's too much for her, too much for anyone, and Clay can't stop her from doing it. No one can. And then it's Hannah, and Clay can't fucking watch this. Has a hard enough time even picturing it, something he used to do to torture himself. He can't look away, though, and he watches as the water turns a deep red and overflows. She's staring at Clay, tears in her eyes, and he knows she wants to say something, but she never does. Never can. The nightmares always take that away from both her and him. Robs them both of everything.

And Tony is looking right into his eyes when he's bleeding out in the bathtub.

He hasn't told anyone about the nightmares. Keeps them to himself.

But those are waiting for him in the dark.

 

* * *

 

Clay knows he should announce his presence, but ends up watching Tony with his three-month-old niece. The baby--Elena--has a rash on her legs and she's fussing, on the verge of wailing.

It's almost funny to see Tony with a baby, shushing her and humming softly, but it also feels like a private moment between uncle and niece. He feels like he's intruding just by standing there.

He crosses his arms, looks away, trying to decide if he should leave or not. Tony lifts his head up, eyes locking on him, and something deeply uncomfortable flickers behind his features. Clay doesn't know what it is, can't explain it.

The shorter man let's out a breath and is about to say something. Clay beats him to it.

“Hey.”

Tony gives him a hint of a smile. “Hey, Clay. Didn't hear you come in.”

“Yeah, sorry. Your mom let me in.”

Tony opens his mouth to speak, but Elena releases a sob, like she's getting ready for a tantrum, and Tony’s attention focuses back on her, bouncing her up and down a little.

Clay can tell this is another one of Tony’s escapes. When he's around his baby niece, he slips away, let's go of his pain for a moment, becomes the old Tony again.

It makes Clay angry, and he doesn't even know what he's angry about. He's just... _angry_. At everything.

Everything except him.

“Can you hand me her bottle?”

Clay snaps out of it with a blink. He spots the bottle on Tony’s desk and goes to grab it for him. When he hands it to him, Tony gives him a faint smile. “Thanks.”

“It was a hard job, but someone had to do it.” Clay hopes for a laugh, a smile, anything. And when Tony let's out a laugh, it feels like a huge reward.

“She's getting big,” he comments, looking at the baby.

Tony nods and carefully feeds her the bottle. “Sure is.” He glances at him for a brief moment. “Everything alright, Clay?”

“Yeah, yeah. No, I, uh, just thought I would come by, see if maybe you wanted to play some video games or watch a movie or whatever.”

“I...I'm babysitting ‘Lena tonight. Maybe another time?”

Disappointment fills Clay, but he swallows and nods, hides it with a brief smile. “Sure. Yeah, I'll, um, see you at school tomorrow.” He backs away, giving Tony a small wave before he turns around and heads for the door without looking back.

 

* * *

 

Tony feels like he should say something else, something other than a simple, “see ya, Clay.” Like he shouldn't just let him walk out like this. But nothing comes to him, and then the door is closing and he's alone.

Well, not entirely true. Elena is with him, but she's only an infant. She can't do anything.

He leans back against his bed and looks down at her, watching as her lips suck on the bottle greedily. It's an adorable sight, he’ll admit it, and he presses a kisses to her head.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. “We’re gonna be okay.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Not all his dreams are nightmares. He still has normal dreams, though most of the time he barely remembers them. And not all his nightmares are the one that causes him to wake up screaming and drenched in sweat.

In a fucked up way, Clay wishes he could just get used to the nightmares of Hannah and his friends. Maybe then it wouldn't hurt so much to see them die over and over again.

He's not sleeping now, and the harsh cold reality sets backs in.

The tables have turned, and it's Jessica who worries about Clay. Jessica will always be a mystery to him. Has been since...Well. Jessica is actually making it work, from what he's seen. There's a hardness to her that doesn't seem to have left her cold. She's wearing armor that doesn't seem to have forced her into distance. It might be an act, an extremely convincing play at being okay, but Clay doubts this. Jessica has no reason to keep up that kind of mask. She has no one to pretend for anymore.

They all know a lot more about each other-about themselves-than they did before the tapes came out.

But, yeah, she knows how depressed Clay is, how lost he is now that Hannah’s gone and the tapes are over with, and she greets him with a smile and worried look every time they bump into one another. He's tired of it. Everyone should just stop worrying about him and leave him be.

And yet he can't bring himself to tell everyone to leave him the fuck alone, either.

“You should come hang with me and Justin tonight,” Jess says when she finds him during lunch. “We’re gonna chill at his place and watch a movie or something.”

This is the fifth time she's invited him out, and he's run out of excuses he can use to get out of it. The thought causes a flush of irritation, because he knows that Jessica won't take no for an answer anymore.

“Come on, Clay,” she pushes, giving him an exasperated look. “Just...come have some fun for a few hours. It's not gonna kill you, you know.”

“It might.”

She rolls her eyes. “You're coming. End of discussion.”

He sighs in defeat. Nods. Looks away from her to stare at literally anything else. He catches Tony sitting alone at another table with a book in his hand, and he finds himself noticing--again--just how fucking exhausted his best friend looks. Tired eyes, some of his hair falling almost in front of his eyes. And Clay gets it more than anyone, because he's pretty sure he looks the same way. What marks both their faces isn't time. It's weariness and pain.

“I'm gonna go find Sherri,” Jess interrupts his thoughts. She stands up from the table and gives him a pointed look. “Five o'clock, Jensen. Be there.”

He knows she's expecting him to protest, but he says nothing, and it earns him a bright smile that he can't find it in himself to return.

 

* * *

 

Justin is another person who isn't doing too well. A part of that is why he and Clay are sort-of friends now.

He's leaning against the bathroom wall, arms crossed. It almost looks like wariness, as if he's waiting for the arrival of someone he doesn't like or trust, but Clay knows that's not the only reason why. Justin stands that way to try and hide what was done to him. He stands that way because he's unsure of what to do with himself.

But he relaxes when he sees it's only Clay who comes in. Now that Clay and him are on good terms, the younger boy has been on the list of people Justin knows he can trust. Just like Jessica and Clay don't feel the need to pretend in front of one another, Justin doesn't either.

“Hey,” Justin nods at him.

“Hey.” Clay wonders what he’ll say next.

“Jess said you're coming over tonight?”

“She didn't really give me a choice. Sorry.” He knows that Justin is trying to get back with Jessica. Another reason why he doesn't want to go tonight.

Justin gives a half-shrug. “It's cool, man.” He sounds sincere enough.

“Okay. Cool.”

And that's the end of the conversation. That's okay. There's no need for much more than that. The silence isn't awkward anymore. Not when they’re both in pieces and barely holding it together.

 

* * *

 

He finds Tony at Hannah’s grave after school.

It's been awhile since he's visited her. Hasn't really wanted to. Why put himself through that? And yet, it felt wrong not to visit her. So today he gathers the courage to suck it up and do it. But he hadn't been expecting Tony to be here.

He remains still, doesn't say a word or make any move that will signal he's here. Tony’s eyes are closed and he's gripping the cross necklace around his neck.

“You'll never know how sorry I am, Hannah,” Tony says shakily.

Clay closes his eyes and let's out a breath, hands fisted at his sides. Tony hasn't seen or heard him yet, or hasn't let on that he has.

He wonders how often Tony comes here.

“Tony.”

Low, soft. But the other man jerks his head like he's been slapped, and it's clear that he was indeed unaware of him.

“Clay...I…” He can't seem to finish his sentence and hangs his head, shoulders trembling.

Clay doesn't say his name again. Doesn't say anything. Inside him, a voice tells him that he should go, that he should leave Tony alone like he thought he was and probably wants to be. But Clay's here for his own reasons.

And yet it's not Hannah’s grave he's walking towards, but Tony. And he's not even surprised.

He steps in front of him, and for a long moment he maintains the silence. Or he refuses to break it. But Tony doesn't break it either. Clay stands there and Tony crouches, him gazing down and the other man gazing up, holding all the pain in the world in his eyes. How present he is in the world, even if he's not doing so good in it right now. Present but removed.

Clay almost laughs. It's like looking in a goddamn mirror.

Tony's been crying. Eyes glistening and cheeks wet. He's not wiping at his face, and Clay knows it's because he doesn't feel it necessary to hide it from him, his grief for Hannah. How it hasn't faded. How it still stabs at him, relentless.

Clay knows that feeling. They both cared about Hannah. But they both cared about her in completely different ways.

“I didn't know you were here,” Clay says.

Tony shrugs, still not getting up, his fingers pulling absently at each other. “I was heading in this direction anyway. Figured I’d swing by and visit.” He clears his throat and scratches at his chin. “I didn't know _you’d_ be here,” he mutters, and he's not quite looking at Clay anymore.

Clay offers his own shrug. “It's been awhile.” And just like Tony wasn't meeting his eyes, he isn't letting his own eyes stray towards the headstone. There's a vase containing fresh flowers in it. There's always fresh flowers here, the few times he's come. It's not Hannah’s parents, because they moved away. No, it's someone else who's been putting down flowers every time. And he doesn't know who. He hasn't asked. It's guilt. He won't pretend it's not.

He should be here. He should be the one to do this.

Tony nods in understanding and he pushes up to stand. At first his shoulders are slumped, but he squares them, raises his face to him, and his eyes are dry now. “You staying?”

“I don't know. Maybe not this time.” He's not in the mood anymore. He shouldn't have forced himself to come in the first place.

“Then let me give you a ride home.” It's not a question, but it's also not a statement. It lies somewhere between the two, giving Clay the choice of if he really wants to leave or not.

“You sure?” Clay has to ask. Tony nods. “Okay. Yeah...that’d be good. Thanks.”

For a moment Tony merely stands there, looking at him and not looking at him, and all at once Clay finds it difficult to look anywhere else.

 


End file.
